Gone Forever
by But I Have Promises To Keep
Summary: Natara is supposed to be able to keep people safe; especially her loved ones. So what happens when Oscar is targeted because of her job; and his abductor wants nothing more than to push her to her limit as she tried to solve the perverse puzzles they left behind?
1. Disappear

**So I know I really shouldn't start this…but oh well. I am trying to review some other stories, since I was away yesterday all day for church, and there are a whole bunch of new stories up now O.o Also, a couple people did ask me to do an epilogue for _Don't Forget. _I am planning on doing that, I'll probably put it up tomorrow, so thanks to everyone who requested it! Also, before anyone asks me this, no this is not an Osctara story. I would _never _do that. So there will be some Maltara in later chapters, just not right away. **

* * *

It's raining, pouring really, as I lean against the wall in the main entrance of my apartment building. Mal should be here by now, but he's not. If he doesn't come soon we'll both be late. I impatiently peer out the foggy windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the framilar car that's usually my ride to work, but the parking lot is empty. It's not surprising, since most people are at work, like I'm suposed to be.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out, hoping it's Mal letting me know he's on his way. But while it is a text from him, it's not what I expected.

'_I'm supposed to let you know; there was a mix-up. You have today off today now._

_-Mal'_

I read over those two sentences a dozen times. Something's not right. This text doesn't even sound like like it came from Mal. And a 'mix-up'? How could there be a mix-up? We're still stuck with Anders as captain, and someone as meticulous as him would never get something as simple as a work schedule mixed up. There has to be something going on; and I'm not just going to sit by and let them keep me in the dark. Last time that happened…things didn't end well. I can't let something like that happen again.

I run up to my apartment and grab an umbrella, intending to walk there. I could easily take a bus, but being shoved into a tiny space with soaking wet strangers this early in the morning doesn't really appeal to me. So I walk through the rain, my trainers already soaked by the time I get there. Leaving my umbrella just outside the door, I walk in, but to my surprise Mal isn't at his desk. Or anywhere. Figuring he's down at the crime lab, I head down the hall, my shoes squeaking all the way down.

But before I can even walk in the door someone steps in front of me, blocking my way. I look up and see that it's Mal, but before I can even speak he says "Go home".

"Mal? What is your problem?" I ask, pushing past him. It's clear he's trying to hide something, that there's something he doesn't want me to see. But he reaches around and grabs my arm, stopping me from going any further.

"Natara…" I know from his tone, and also from the use of my full name, that something isn't right. Something bad has happened. "…Oscar is gone".

"What do you mean?". My heart skips a beat.

"He went missing late last night. There were signs of a struggle, and his neighbor was killed also".

No…No, this can't be happening. This can't be happening! Why me? Why him? And most importantly, why did I only find out now? "And you were going to keep this from me?" I try and ask angrily, but my voice is a little weak from shock and come out in a whisper.

"It wasn't my choice…" he starts, but I grab his hand and shove it off my arm. I shove past him once more, stomping down the hall. I'm not so mad at him as I am everyone else. I'm angry at whoever it was, probably Anders, who tried to keep this information from me. I'm mad at the world for taking Oscar away. But I can fix it…I can get him back.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mal shouts at me when I'm about half-way up the stairs.

"Where do you think?" I shout back, my voice much louder than before.

"And how do you plan to get there?".

He walks down the hall after me, and I wait for him. I could easily get there myself, but better my pride be damaged than for me to show up the the crime scene dripping wet. As we make our way out to the bullpen I notice that he glances over to me every few seconds, his eyes apologetic. Maybe he really did want to tell me, and he was forced to keep me in the dark. It wouldn't be the first time, but I figured after all that resulted from The Kraken case he would never do that again. Still, orders are orders. And if I were in his position I would have had to do the exact same thing.

The door to Oscar's apartment is open, as is the door next to it. To my surprise Mal doesn't even give Oscar's apartment a second glance as we pass, and all I catch a glimpse of is a smashed lamp and overturned chair. But the room inside his neighbors apartment is completely normal, almost too much so. Bookshelves line the walls, each one neatly full. Everything is neat and tidy, much like a library. Except for the fact that a woman lies face-down on the carpet; her skin pale as winter and her hair very grey. I have to wonder what could have killed her. Other than her slight pallor, she looks perfectly fine.

"She was a Oscar's neighbor?".

"Yeah. According to her other neighbor she was a chemesty teacher at a school not far from here. No one even heard her scream or anything, the same goes with Oscar".

I scan the room, looking for anything out of place. But there's nothing here, and all I can think of is…Why? Why would someone do this? What motive could they possibly have?

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**Thanks for reading! Review and let me know what you think so far?**


	2. The Harry Potter Books

**Just letting you know, my chapters aren't going to be as long as before. The reason is I had the sudden realization that I promised myself I would get at least most of the novel I've been trying to write since winter done, and I'm on chapter three now O.o**

**I also apologize if this chapter _really _sucks. I majorly struggle with writing for Kai, and he needed to be in this chapter. **

**Thanks so much to _mozzi-girl _and _SuperbowserX _for the reviews! **

* * *

Nothing, it seems, is out of place. Despite the efforts of both Mal and myself, we can't find anything unusual. I'm just about to start shuffling through the books until I hear a familiar voice; one that I wasn't really hoping to hear today.

"'Morning Maligator. Nat-attack". I turn around and give a sharp look at Kai. I'm not in the mood for this, less so that usual. He strolls out of the other room, what looks like a fingerprinting kit in his hands, and I assume that he was looking for prints in the other room. He sees me and smiles, a look that tells me he's going to say something that's going to tick either Mal or myself off. Going by my current mood, it'll probably be me.

"Someone looks grumpy" Kai remarks, and I scowl at him. "I know what'll cheer you up!" he nods to the woman on the floor. "What do you do with a chemist after they die?".

"Kai, I swear to God—" Mal starts.

"You Barium!" he says anyway, a goofy grin plastered on his face. I could almost smile, not because it was funny, but because of how bad the joke is. It actually did make me feel a little better; not that I would admit it.

"Seriously?" says Mal.

"Sorry, all the good Chemestry jokes Argon".

He gives Kai and exasperated look and opens his mouth to say something, but seems to decide against it and ignores his remark. "Just tell us what you found" Mal says after a while.

"…Well…Nothing" Kai answers. "I mean, even less than their should be. They wiped the whole place clean, even the owners fingerprints".

"Why would they do that?" Mal asks, turning to me. "They would only need to wipe the places they touched".

"Maybe they're just being cautious" I suggest, but I know right away that's not right. Something catches my eye on the bookshelf, and I cross the room to it. While all the other shelves are packed tight with books, this bottom shelf has plenty of space between the books. "Or maybe they're trying to send us a message".

"A message?".

"Maybe…maybe we're supposed to be looking for what's not here, as opposed to what is". I crouch down, looking at the thick hardcover books on the shelf. I recognize them, anyone would. They're all _Harry Potter_ books. But I can't recall how many book there are, so I have no idea if there are any missing.

"Number four and number one are missing!" Kai says from across the room.

"How can you even tell?" Mal asks, crouching down beside me. "There aren't even any numbers on them!".

"Didn't you read them? Ever?" Kai asks, sounding rather irritated.

Ignoring his question, I say "It doesn't matter, it might not mean anything. Maybe they just don't have all the books".

"Natara, one does not simply just have only some of the _Harry Potter_ books" Kai says with the same serious tone he uses when taking about his precious video games.

"Check that green one, it's missing a book jacket" Mal suggests.

Kai says something, perhaps scolding Mal for not using the proper title, but I tune him out and pull out a thick green book with yellow binding. If there's a clue in here, I'll never find it. It's even thicker than my collage textbooks! Unless…

Kai said the first and fourth books were taken. Hoping with all my heart this will work, I ignore the bickering voices behind me and turn to page fourteen. Nothing, unless it's something I'm supposed to read. In that case I'll do that later. My heart pounding, I turn to page forty-one. To my surprise, there's a red slip of paper wedged between the pages. I pull it out, studying it closely.

It's a ferry ticket.

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**Thanks for reading! Please review? **


	3. Dolls of Straw

**Sorry it's rather short and dull. I didn't have much time to write, and I wanted to update today. **

**Review Replies: **

**mozzi-girl: Thanks so much! That really means a lot! **

**SuperBowserX: Thanks! **

**gummybear1622: Thanks! What? "One does not simply…". **

* * *

A little over a half an hour later I find myself somewhere I hoped I would never go again; Mal at my side. The massive frame of the infamous building towers over me intimidatingly, threatening me with bad memories.

It's not that I'm afraid of Alcatraz Island, but this place has etched itself into my brain with bad experiences, and nothing can erase that. I just hope I'm in the right place. It's what the ferry ticket said on it, so unless it's another stupid puzzle I'm assuming this is where I'm supposed to be. Beside me, Mal checks his phone quickly, before saying.

"Kai found what that woman was killed with. Oxidized arsenic".

Arsenic. So that's why there wasn't a scratch on her. In it's oxidized state, it's odorless and tasteless. All the killer had to do was slip the right amount in her water, and she was a goner.

Without another word I decide to look around, and Mal follows beside me. "You know—" he starts "Considering you were a nerd in high school, I would have thought you would know Harry Potter".

"First off" I respond, not even bothering to look at him. "I prefer the term 'academically inclined'. And second–".

"Oh my God. You just made the word 'nerd', even nerdier" he interrupts.

I can't help but crack a slight smile as I turn to finish my sentence, facing him this time. "–and secondly–".

It's not Mal who interrupts me this time, but something that catches my eye.

There's a splash of tan on the tree we just passed. It's on the side of the trunk I would have never seen coming up, and it appears to be nailed in place. Without pointing it out to Mal I head towards it, but he must see it too because he follows close behind. As I get closer I realize it's a straw doll, carefully made, with a long nail pierced right through where the doll's heart would be.

"That's—" Mal starts.

"—Creepy". I look closer, but there's nothing unusual about it; other than the fact that it's a random straw doll nailed to a tree.

"What is it? A voodoo doll?" Mal asks.

"I don't know". A voodoo doll seems plausible; but in that case it doesn't make much sense for it to be nailed to a tree. Still, it's creepy. And even I can't shake off the feeling that there's and evil air attached to it.

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**Kudos to anyone who knows what the 'doll' is!**


	4. The Wara Ningyo's Curse

**Just as a side note, I may not be updating for a while. I know this isn't my best story, which is why I chose to write it now, because I have some big things going on right now. So any day now I'll be out for 3-5 days; and when I come back I'll try and write a Maltara story.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! **

* * *

The sun is already setting by the time we make it back to the precinct. Mal doesn't say anything to me as Kai searches for what the doll could mean, but it's a slow process since Kai refuses to touch the thing. He claims he's seen it before, somewhere.

"Found it!" Kai suddenly says, and the sudden noise makes me jump slightly.

"What? You figured out what the doll is?".

"No! Well, yes, but I know where I've seen it before!". I look at the computer monitor; where a picture of a book takes up the entire screen. It's small, half of the cover black, the other white. There's a peculiar design etched in silver on the cover; and characters that I can't read written in the same color etched on the top.

"It's a book" I say impatiently "What does it have to do with anything?".

"It has to do with everything!" Kai says "This is where I've seen the doll before! It's a wara ningyo!".

"How can you even read this? It's in…foreign".

"Japanese".

"Whatever. What's a wara ningyo?". I ask. I can see the way Kai's eyes light up when he talks about this, and I make a mental note to never look up what that books about.

"They're pretty much like voodoo dolls, only ten times creepier. There's different ways they're used—"

"Just tell us the one that we need to know".

"Well, this one was probably for revenge".

"Revenge?"

"You put a piece of someones hair or something in the straw" he explains "there's a whole bunch of ritual stuff attached to it, but basically you nail it to a 'sacred' tree".

"And what is that supposed to do?".

"Kill whoevers hair is attached to the doll".

Mal reaches over and grabs the wara ningyo, which is wrapped inside an evidence bag, to examine it. I peer over my shoulder as he does so, and as I do I can see one single hair woven into the staw.

My heart drops to my stomach. There's no need for a DNA test, or even to take the hair out. It's long, coffee brown. It looks exactly like my hair.

"The big question is…why? What motive does this creep have?".

I take a step back, my eyes dropping to the floor. "Don't you get it?" I say. Both Kai and Mal turn to look at me, confused. "This isn't some random kidnapping. It's a direct challenge".

"To who?"

"Me". I take a deep breath. "Don't you see? These puzzles are for me. They're challenging me to solve them. Like a test".

"But who would want to do that?".

"Someone with a grudge against me. A stalker. It's not like we don't have a lot of enemies". I say to Mal.

"So what do we do? Keep solving them and hope they end; or ignore them and hope they get bored?".

"As much as I don't want to play their little game…I don't think I have a choice. I can't wait until they get bored. They'll kill Oscar".

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**Anyone totally amazing and know what the book title is? (Hint: it is about a serial killer). **


	5. Dreams

**So, for those of you who aren't on tumblr, you probably noticed I haven't been reviewing, reading or responding to messages. I apologize for this, but right now I am so stressed out that my brain has literally shut down. I can't even think straight, or form a coherent thought. So for the sake of my sanity I will not be reading, writing, reviewing or responding to messages. I will catch up with all the stories and messages when I can, which hopefully will be in a few days. Review replies: **

**mozzi-girl: Thanks!**

**SuperBowserX: No, I think I may have heard of that though. **

**maltarajaise: Thanks!**

**maltararox21: Thanks! Your comment made me smile :)**

**BreezyFan: Thanks, that reallymeans a lot! And yeah, I did :)**

**And for anyone who was wondering, the name of the book is _"Death Note: Another Note. The Los Angeles BB Murder Case"_**

* * *

Under any other circumstance, I would have stayed all night trying to find Oscar. But there are no leads, no 'clue' to chase after next. The possibility of me missing something and wasting precious time haunts me, but the fact remains that I'm tired. My brain is excused from trying to take in everything that's happened today, and I can't switch it off. Questions enter my mind endlessly, and I can't answer any of them.

Why me? Why Oscar? How did they poison that other woman, and why? Is all this for the sake of their sick little game, the twisted puzzles that are almost ominously easy? It's starting it get to me that we solved them so quickly. Surely they'll get harder. And if I can't figure them out in time…I'll never forgive myself. Ever.

All of this and more is on my mind as I head down the street. Mal could give me a ride…but I refused. Maybe the cool night air will clear my head, give me ideas as to who would do this. But my mind is too cluttered, and all I want is to go home and sleep; so I can escape all of this for just a little while.

* * *

_I can feel the cold metal of a knife under my neck as I assess the room around me. I'm back to that day again, the one just after my sister was taken. The day I was supposed to choose between Shawn and Mal._

_Only this time Shawn's place is taken by Oscar. He's being held by the collar of his jacket, and he's not looking at me. His head is bowed as if in silent prayer, but I know this isn't what he's doing. He's too still to be praying, too limp to be awake. My eyes drift to Mal, his baby-blues meeting my hazel. He's looking at me, but at the same time it's like he's not; like he's staring at a phantom over my shoulder._

_I know I don't have a choice this time even before the room explodes with gunshots. Someone screams, and as I break away from whoever's holding me I want them to stop, but they won't. As I kneel down to two still bodies, the word "No!" keeps vibrating in my skull like a never-ending scream. That's when I realize the noise is coming from my own mouth, that I'm the one who's screaming._

And for a second, just as I sit up and bed covered in cold sweat, I really think that they're both really dead.


	6. The Yellow Brick Road

**So it turns out everything I've been worrying like crazy about was solved a lot quicker than I expected. What I was worried about was the fact I had to get very minor surgery (nothing life-threatening), which I would be put completely asleep for. I was insanely nervous, and was so scared I actually started crying when they put the IV in (and I literally never cry) and I might have spelled my name wrong when I signed a paper O.o. But it was actually not as bad as I thought. They also told me I would be really loopy for a few days, which is why I planned to be away for a while, but it turns out I'm just plain weird. While most people are practically carried out by a parent, I literally walked out by myself, while starting to type this on my iPod. So I'm all good now, I can actually put words together, and have had a whole day (and a few more days after this) where I'm not allowed to do anything; so I have plenty of time to write. Thanks so much to everyone for your concern, it really meant a lot to me. ****Review replies:**

**BreezyFan: Thanks so much, that really means a lot :) I actually read your review just before I went into surgery; and it relaxed me a lot :) **

**My Quiet Riot: Thanks so much! **

**maltararox21: Thanks! And…well, no promises :) but I do think you'll like what I have planned. **

**Malatara101: Thanks so much! **

**mozzi-girl: Thanks! And thanks for your concern :)**

* * *

That dream haunts me all morning, and I can't seem to get it out of my head. It seemed so real. Maybe I'm driving myself crazy over this, surely dwelling on something like this for so long isn't healthy, but it's no use fighting it. The only way to get rid if it is to find Oscar. It's the not knowing that's tearing me apart.

By the time it's almost time for Mal to pick me up I look awful, and it's easy to see that this case has taken a toll on me. I try and put up a relaxed facade, but anyone would be able to see past it. I dread walking into the station now, because I don't want people to see me like this.

And so, it's lucky when I get a text from Mal, telling me we have a lead and that he'll be picking me up soon and we're not going to the station first. I'm relieved, really. While he may be able to see how this case is breaking me up inside a better than anyone, at least it's better than dozens of other prying eyes.

Because of this I'm in a slightly better mood that I have been as of late as I wait for Mal, and I'm happy to see he's a little early. As I climb in the car I notice a photo sitting on the seat, which I examine as I buckle-up my seatbelt. It's a ring, the metal a dull-silver-ish color. On it is the head of a great lion, it's mouth frozen in mid-snarl, it's mane thick and proud.

"Kai found it hiding in the center of the doll" Mal explains "It's made of Tin, and since most people don't make jewlery out of that, we were able to trace it back to a small jewelry story a few miles from here".

I don't say anything, but just nod, which I know he can't see since he's driving. I don't really have anything to say anymore, to anybody. Because I realized something after I woke up from that dream. This whole time I've been asking myself 'why'. But that's the question that's keeping me going, the question that may not have an answer. That's the question that will always stay with me if I never answer it, and I know I have to or I might go insane.

A little over fifteen minutes later we pull up outside a small jewelry store. It's in a quieter part in town, in a residential area, but it's rather unassuming so it blends right in. It has a name, which is written on a wooden sign outside, but it's so weather-beaten that the words are faded away. As Mal and I climb up the steps to the small building I notice the sign says 'closed', but yet the lights are on. Before we enter I cup my hands around my eyes, pressing my face to the glass as I peer in. Beside me, Mal does the same. I don't see anything unusual, that is, until my eyes lock on something on the ground. Something small and limp, hidden behind the counter, in the shape of a human hand.

Mal must see it as soon as I do, because both of us push on the glass doors at the same time. I had expected them to be locked, but to my surprise they open easily. We rush in, and I head straight over to the man.

There's something sticking out of his chest, a long tool that looks like it would be used for bending delicate pieces of hot metal. He's covered in dry blood, lying flat on his back, his eyes open but unseeing. I press my hand below his chin before muttering to Mal "dead" a few seconds later.

Mal has his hand on his holster, his eyes narrowed as he scans the room. I know there's no one here, and that this is no ordinary robbery. After all, who would rob a store selling Tin jewlery? There has to be a clue here; somewhere. Anywhere.

Eventually, Mal comes over, his eyes drifting down to the man. "They were all killed with something relating to their occupation" Mal comments "The Chemestry teacher was poisoned with Arsenic. The jewler was killed with one of his tools. The only question is…why?".

There it is, that question again. Those three words that are muttered like a curse. "I think that's just to throw us off track, so we focus on that more" I suggest "I mean, we've already figured out this is about me. Sure, it would be easy to kill me with something relating to my job. But everything that's been done is ritualistic, creative even. What would be the significance of shooting me?".

"I don't know…"

Mal continues to speak, but something in my brain clicks and I don't listen. It's about something he said earlier; how the ring was 'hiding' in the Wara Ningyo. A straw doll, like a scarecrow. A lion; hiding in a cowardly way. A jeweler who uses Tin; a Tin-man of sorts. I can remember watching that movie dozens of times as a child; fearing the flying monkeys and cheering for the girl with the ruby-red shoes the whole time.

It all fists, and one phrase repeats itself in my head; '_There's no place like home…there's no place like home….there's no place like home'._

It's so simple; they're referencing one of the most famous children's movies of all time. The Wizard of Oz. The straw doll, while it's original purpose was to either to curse me or let me know what this is about, now serves as the scarecrow. The 'hiding' lion-ring is the cowardly lion. And this latest victim is the tin-man.

And now, with those three things, the killer is telling me to go home and face whatever horrors are waiting for me there.


	7. Ruby Red Carpet

**First off, I just want to say thank you to everyone who wished me a quick recovery :) I'm doing awesome; and I'll probably be completely back to normal within a week. So thanks so much to _NaturallyFlaxen, BreezyFan, Maltara101, mozzi-girl, maltararox21_ and _My Quiet Riot_ for the reviews!**

* * *

Waiting for someone to come and secure the crime scene was easily the longest five minutes of my life.

By the time Mal and I make it to my apartment, I'm so on-edge Mal had to ask me several time not to drum my fingers on the ride there. I don't even let him park before I get out, and I bolt across the parking lot without waiting for him. I can hear him call after me, but I ignore him. Maybe it's not the smartest thing, considering this very well may be a trap, but I can take care of myself. They were in my home! And if there's any chance they're still there, setting up whatever sick little puzzle they have for me this time, I need to get there now.

I sprint up the steps, and I can hear Mal coming up behind me. I don't look back, there's no time. As I go up I take my key out of my pocket, my hands shaking so bad I almost drop it, and as I reach my floor I run down the hallway. Luckily most people aren't home at this time, so no one is here to block the hallway, and I'm able to get to my apartment without attracting any attention.

To my surprise, the door's already open. The lights are on. My heart pounds as I ease the door open.

The ground seems to jerk out from under me as the sight of my apartment meets my eyes. I can't help it, I fall to me knees in shock. I can feel something warm sliding down my cheeks, and my breath seems to be stuck in my throat.

The carpet is dyed crimson, the whole room filled with a certain coppery scent. And there, hidden mostly behind the couch, is the bottom half of a figure. I manage to pick myself up, trying desperately to catch my breath, as I inch closer.

Someone grabs my arm from behind, but I don't turn around. I know it's Mal, even before he quietly says my name. He tries to pull me back, perhaps to protect me from the sight, but I yank my arm out of his grip. I'm not a child, I don't need protecting.

He doesn't stop me as I look behind the couch, where the red of the carpet seem to be the darkest. My hand flies to my mouth as the sight meets my eyes, and I can't help but let a squeak escape my lips. I take a step back, and as I blink my eyes are temporarily blinded by moisture. But it doesn't matter. I don't need to look again, that image will be forever burned into my brain.

The image of Oscar Santos, his head smashed in with a large gavel-like hammer embeded in his skull.


	8. Get Out Alive

_**Review replies: **_

**My Quiet Riot: It seems a lot of people are XD thanks for the review!**

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**Maltara101: Thanks so much! **

**mozzi-girl: Thanks a lot! **

**maltararox21: Sounds like someone's happy :) Thanks for the review!**

**SuperbowserX: Well, good guess. Thanks for the review! **

* * *

It's not cold, but I still pull my jacket tightly around myself as I wait outside with Mal. The red and blue lights of police cars dance across the shadows of the streets, and a few curious civilians stop to see what's going on. I wish they wouldn't. I wish they would all go away, keep looking forward and mind their own business.

I'm not shocked at all by Oscar's death anymore. I'm angry. I'm more than angry…so much so that there's no word to describe it. All I can hope for is that when we catch him…Mal better have my back. Because I'm not sure what will happen if there isn't someone there to hold me back.

I don't make eye-contact with anyone, no matter how hard they try, and keep looking down as if in deep thought. Mal must notice this, because after a while he asks "What are you thinking about?".

"This killer…they knows me".

"What do you mean?".

"It's like…they knew killing Oscar would just make me even more determined to catch them than keeping him alive. Almost like they've analyzed me, watched me closely to see what makes me tick". My mind immediately jumps to Shawn, and for a second I almost say it, but I catch myself just in time. It's impossible, Shawn's lying comatose in a hospital bed somewhere. I'm stupid for even thinking of it.

"I hate to break it to you…but that's not exactly helpful. Like you said, it's not like we don't have a lot of enemies" he says. I nod, but don't say anything in response. My theory isn't much…but it's a start. It's something. "Any idea where you're going to go tonight?".

"I'll probably find a hotel somewhere. I'm sure there's one somewhere with a vacancy" I answer.

"Nat…if you need somewhere to stay—"

"No" I interrupt a little too quickly. I steal a glance at his confused face, and I quickly say "I–I just want to be alone right now…so I can think".

He gives me a reassuring smile, and I know he believes me. The truth is that I can't be anywhere near him now; I need to make it appear that Mal and I aren't as close as we would appear to be. Whoever our killer is will eventually get bored with watching me seek them out in revenge…and when they do they'll need something else for me to seek out. Anyone would be able to tell that Mal and I are close, and surely our killer knows this, and now I have to prove them wrong. For Mal's sake. I have full confidence that he can take care of himself, but I don't want to take that chance. I can't let them take him away too. I won't let them take anyone else that I love away from me. So for now on…I'm pursuing Oscar's killer alone.

"Want me to help you look for a place?".

"No…no, I'll call a few places. I can always take a bus or something. You—you should go home".

I still don't look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me. He grabs my upper arm reassuringly and says "We're going to find who did this. I promise".

I nod and pull my arm out of his grip, waiting for him to leave. It's better this way, whoever's after me could be watching right now. Mal must figure I want to be alone, because a second later I can hear him walk away. I start to head down the street, knowing a hotel is down there, and as I go I can see Mal's car making its way down the street. I watch him until it disappears around the corner, as if doing so will ensure his safety. I make a promise to myself that, even if it's the last thing I do, I am going to keep Mal safe. I'm going to make sure he gets out of this alive.


	9. The Puzzle Box

**Sorry this is so short and late, I had to help babysit today and it's impossible to write with a three year old running around O.o Review Replies: **

**BreezyFan: Thanks so much!**

**mozzi-girl: Thanks a lot! **

**Maltara101: Yeah, I almost felt bad for killing him. Almost. That sounds terrible O.o Thanks for the review! **

**SuperbowserX: Thanks for the review! **

* * *

By the time morning comes none of the anger from the night before has subsided. As I wake up in the bedroom of my hotel room, I resist the urge to take it out on the flower vase precariously perched on the edge of the small table I put against the closed door. I put it there last night, so if anyone tried to come in here the crash of breaking glass would wake me up. I'm glad it's intact; since right now I don't think I'm up for a fight.

The events of last night have left me drained; every emotion I have somewhat dull. Every thought I have disappears quickly as if turning to shadow upon creation. The profiler in me tells me this is shock, that my brain's simply gone into survival mode and shut off all unnecessary functions. But I know this isn't the case. It's guilt, and if I'm not careful it'll drown me. But the fact remains that this is all my fault. I'm supposed to protect people, it's my job. And so far all I've done is ruin everything I touch. But I can't worry about that now. I need to make sure this never happens again, that no one else gets hurt from this.

My phone is blinking with a message, and before doing anything else I check it to find a text from Mal. It's a picture of what looks like a shark tooth lying on a table; and attached to the photo is a message.

_'Found in Oscar's pocket. Any idea where it came from?'._

As much as I want to reply just so I know he's still alive, I shut my phone without doing anything. It's better if he's kept completely in the dark. The less he knows…the better.

There's only one place I can think of that would be connected with the tooth. A tourist place I heard of when I first came here; a place called the Farallones Islands. From what I recall, it's a marine wildlife reserve. It's a shot in the dark, but it's worth a try. I can't really think of anywhere else to go. So after getting ready and looking around just in case, I decide to head out on my own. An idea strikes me as I leave, and after a minute of searching through the hotel end-table drawers I find a mechanical pencil. I take out the lead, and as I go out the door I rest it just above the door hinge in the crack between the door and the frame. This way, even if someone picks the lock, I'll know if someone's been in here by whether the lead is both intact and in place. It's a little bit of a paranoid measure, and there's a chance an intruder would notice it and replace the lead, but it's worth a try.

I have to walk down the street for a while until I can find a taxi, and it takes over and hour to get to the main docking area of the Farallones Islands. I pay the driver as we arrive and get out, my eyes immediately drawn to a nearby bench. There's a small wooden box there, and not just any box. It's a Chinese puzzle box, and I know it's for me right away. It's not exactly the type of thing you see everyday, or the type of thing you see lying around for that matter. Looks like I won't have to go to the actual island after all.

The box is about the size of my hand, with different patterned strips of wood running across the surface. I can make out the picture on top, it's what looks like a crane with trees or something around it. When I shake it there's no sound, and I could easily break it open, but I have no idea what's inside. It could be dangerous to simply pry it open, just like the door of that secret room at the house in pacific heights during the Maskmaker case. It looks like I'll have to solve it…which isn't going to be easy. Every strip of wood slides around, and there's dozens of them all over. Unlocking a padlock by guessing would be easier than this. It would take me ages to try every combination. The Internet might have answers if it's a simple factory-made thing, but it doesn't look like this is the case. It's well-polished and sturdy; and it looks hand-made. My only chance now is to find someone who _can_ open it.


	10. Broken Pieces

**Thanks so much to _mozzi-girl _and _Maltara101 _for the reviews! **

* * *

I head straight back to the precinct after finding the box. I can't think of anything else to do, since I can't exactly see though the wood and be able to tell if it's safe to pry open. Hopefully Kai can tell me, quickly and quietly, and Mal won't even know that I was there. I take the taxi back, another silent hour-long trip. By the time I make it back it's almost noon, and after paying the driver once again I head up the stone steps and enter the familiar building.

I'm almost surprised at how average things are. The same officers drink coffee in a corner. The same detectives calmly do paperwork at their desks, chatting with each other as they write. It's almost hard to grasp that life can go on normally, no matter how much my own is falling apart.

No one gives me a second glance as I head down to the crime lab, carrying the little box as if it's made of glass. Luckily it's just Kai in the lab when I get there, and before he can say anything I plop the box down next to him and say "I need you to tell me if this is safe to pry open".

"Why would you do that?". Without anther word he grabs it, and before I can even mutter a single word of warning he starts to open it. First he starts to slide the little wooden pieces on the side and bottom, every once in a while shifting the top as if he's about to open it. He sticks his tongue out slightly as he works, and I'm reminded strongly of a child trying to figure out a rubix-cube. Several times I think he's got it, because the top panel slides off a little bit, but in a flash it's back in place again. Then, with a flourish, Kai takes the top right off and hands the box to me.

"How did you…?".

"What? You didn't have one of these as a kid? It's just a simple seven-sun seventy-eight-move puzzle box. They sell them all over Chinatown".

Before I can even respond, someone answers for me. "Kai…most kids can't even solve a rubix-cube". I know who it is right away, and not from their voice. I whip around, and there Mal is, standing right behind me. His face is almost unreadable, a combination of pity and anger etched across it. "Can I talk to you—" his eyes flit from Kai to me "—somewhere else?".

I reluctantly grab the box from where Kai set it, not even bothering to look at what's inside. I'm not even slightly curious; I feel like I'll never feel curiosity again. I follow Mal outside, and I know his question even before he opens his mouth.

"Where have you been? I've been trying to call you all morning; I was starting to think someone slit your throat".

"That's my business" I answer coldly. I wish I could tell him why I'm doing this, I wish I could explain everything. But I can't, and all I can do is hope he'll forgive me when all this is over.

"It doesn't have to be. You don't have to do this alone".

"This is my battle, not yours".

"This became my battle when I got involved in the very beginning! So let me rephrase that; I'm not going to _let_ you do this alone".

"You don't understand".

"Oh, you think I don't understand what it's like to lose someone because I couldn't protect them?" he says. I stare at the ground, unable to meet his gaze. I know what he means, he's talking about Tasha King. But he doesn't understand this is to protect him, that I'm not doing this alone because I want to.

"So…what's with the box?" he says after a long pause, breaking the awkward silence. As an answer I hand it to him, and he takes it and peers inside; pulling out a key. There's some sort of keychain attached, but I can't read the words under Mal's fingers.

"I found it at that marine wildlife sanctuary about an hour from here. I figured that's what the shark's tooth must have meant".

I hear a plop as Mal puts the key back in, and he offers the box back to me. I take it and peer down into it, reading the small tourist-y keychain that reads '_Ocean View Hotel'._

"There's no way you'll be able to go there without knowing the room number that key belongs to. That place is huge, you'd never find it any other way". I nod, my eyes drifting back to the ground. After another pause Mal adds "I need to get back, I'll be sure to tell them you're taking a person day; I'm sure everyone will understand". Suddenly he grabs my upper arm, and in shock I look up at him, our eyes meeting. "When you figure it out, call me first. Don't just go running off…you don't know what you'll find there".

"But what if I can't—".

"You're smart, you'll figure it out. Just promise me you'll call when you do".

I'm faintly aware of how long it's been since I've let another person touch me. All the other times I've brushed away any form of comfort, making sure my unbridled fury was what drove me. This is the first time I've actually accepted it. One part of me wants to brush his hand away, the other wants to put my hand over his so he doesn't let go. But before I can do either he squeezes my arm slighty and heads back inside, leaving me alone again.

As soon as he disappears behind the front doors I start to head back to my hotel, since it's starting to get cloudy and I want to be sure to get back before it rains. But because of my luck, I can already feel it start to drizzle by the time I'm half-way there. Within minutes it's turned into a downpour, and I'm forced to take shelter in a tiny alcove that's clearly meant as a bus stop.

I'm so sick of nothing ever going my way. I'm sick of watching as my life falls to pieces. All I wanted was something permanent, something that no one could take away, and what do I get? My fiancé is dead, I'm being forced to completely ignore my best friend, and I'm left behind trying to figure out both my own life and the stupid puzzles left behind for me. Dammit, I'm sick of it! I'm sick of everything going downhill, just when I think it's going to be alright!

I slam the box down on the wooden bench, beyond caring of whether it breaks or not. It's lucky that no one else is waiting for the bus, because no matter how hard I try and stifle it I still find myself already being blinded by tears. At least it's raining, that was the rain will disguise my tear-streaked face.

After about ten minutes the rain lets up, and after wiping my face I go to grab the now possibly-broken box off the bench. That's when I notice the scratches, the purposefully-made lines etched in the lid.


	11. Clocks

**Thanks so much to _My Quiet Riot, BreezyFan, mozzi-girl _and _Maltara101 _for the reviews! **

**Thanks to everyone for staying with this story :) I won't be able to update as often, since I've been super busy, but I'll try and update every few days. **

* * *

I decide to take the box home, seeing as there's no reason to take shelter at that bus stop anymore. I don't think I broke it, but I can't really be sure since it looked broken in the first place with all it's little slices of wood.

By the time I get home my mind is buzzing with ideas, but I make sure to check the whole room before I sit down to examine it further, despite the fact the pencil lead is in the same state I left it in.

I sit at the small kitchen table for the longest time, staring at the scratches in silence. There's two, both of them connecting at an angle. One is only slightly longer than the other. Is that the answer? Is the angle of the lines the room number? That seems too easy, but I'm not ruling it out. Maybe it's an 'L'. In that case I have no idea what it could mean, and that also seems too obvious.

After a while I start to hear an annoying beeping sound, and I know it's from the watch I took off last night and left here this morning. I try and ignore it, but it's so annoying! I take a break and look for it, but no matter how long I look I can't seem to find it. Stupid watch! Why can't it just shut up? I'm running out of time!

…Time. That's it. The scratches aren't supposed to be an angle, or even a letter. It's a minute hand and a hour hand. The real question is…what time is it supposed to be? Am I supposed to hold the lid right-side-up? I probably am, but I can't assume anything. After all, assuming anything at this point is a bad idea. Since there's nothing else on the back I flip it over, studying the front. There has to be something on here, some indication of what angle I'm supposed to hold it on.

The same red crane is still depicted on the front, it's neck and back bent gracefully. The same faded trees surround it, faded pink flowers blossoming on the green foliage. That's when it hits me…the trees! I quickly count them; and but there's only two on each side. Next I count the blossoms, and to my surprise there's three flowers on the right, and nine of the left. On what looks like what's supposed to be the ground there's a little painted stone path, and as I count the stones on the ground I come up with six.

I flip the lid back over, comparing the marks to the numbers on the front. That means the top is 12, right is 3, the bottom is 6 and left is 9. I turn it back over, checking how the marks line up before grabbing the key from the bottom and heading out the door.

Three o'clock. Three-hundred. That's the room they want me to go to. I don't call Mal before I leave, since I still don't want to put him at risk, but hopefully this will be settled soon one way or another.


	12. Going Down In Flames

**Well, I'm back. I'm sorry if there are any typos that I missed, it's really late at night as I write this. Just as a heads-up I am not going to be updating as often anymore. School starts soon, and on top of all that I have EMT night-classes (Which is just _wonderful_ concidering I'm too young to drive without an adult yet O.o) But anyway, I'm going to probably finish this soon and hope to start another story in the near future. I'm planning on making that one more of a Maltara story, but it's not just going to be straight-up fluff. **

**Just as a warning, this chapter is a little more graphic than previous chapters. (If you read my other stories though, it's not anything worse than what I usually write). You have been warned.**

**Thanks so much to everyone for sticking with this story; and thanks a lot to _mozzi-girl, BreezyFan_ and _Maltara101_ for the reviews!**

* * *

Mal was right, the hotel written on the keychain is huge. Evening's almost come by the time I get to the large building situated right along the beach, and I'm surprised by the fact that I've never even heard of this place before. After all, it is the biggest hotel I've seen since I've been here.

There's a slight amount of hesitation in my mind as I walk through the front doors, but I've already come this far. I'm not going back now. I try to casually walk past the front desk as I pass, acting like I do so every day. The woman at the front desk doesn't even look at me as I enter, and I make a beeline for the elevator. Considering it's such a high number, it's pretty safe to assume the room isn't on the first floor. Luckily there's a large map depicting the floor-plan of the building on the elevator wall, which shows that room 300 is on the third floor.

No one else gets on with me, leaving me alone for the ride up. Maybe this wasn't the smartest choice. Maybe I should have called Mal before I left, just so someone knew I was leaving, and convinced him to let me go myself. No, I know deep down it wouldn't have worked, Mal would never let me go alone on this. This is for the best.

The metal doors let me out on the third floor, and I exit out to an undecorated hallway. I look at the nearby doors, finding them to be numbers 310 and 311, and head right. The numbers slowly decrease as I go, until I find myself in front of room 300. I don't go in right away, that would be stupid. Instead, I check that no one else is in the hallway, then kneel to the floor and peer in the keyhole.

I nearly fall back in surprise, but mange to catch myself before fumbling for the key in my pocket. Without hesitating I unlock it with trembling hands, throwing the door open as soon as I hear the click of the lock. My eyes are immediately drawn to a human form, kneeling on the floor and engulfed in flames. I look around for anything useful, my eyes drawn to a flash of red just outside the door. I sprint out, trying desperately to open the glass door to obtain the fire extinguisher inside. It doesn't budge right away, and for a few terrifying moments I panic. Then the glass slides open and I rip the thing out, heading immediately back inside and aiming the hose at the kneeling figure. As I pull the switch white powder quickly quells the flames, and a blackened figure falls to the floor. I drop the fire extinguisher and kneel down beside them, barely able to find their head in the mass of charred flesh. The whole room smells of burnt hair and skin, but I try to ignore it and focus on the victim; which I can now identify as a woman from the tattered remains of a light pink sundress she had clearly been wearing.

"Ma'am, can you tell me your name?" I ask as I frantically look around for whoever caused this. To my surprise, the woman answers, her voice raspy and her lips barely moving.

"M-Megan Selover. I-I'm a f-fire fighter".

I keep looking around as I pull out my phone to call for help, not wanting to let my guard down. Whoever did this has to be here still, and now could be my only chance to catch them. The room is empty though, nothing more than furniture and a few personal items strewn about.

Then something catches my eye, something large and bright yellow. I immediately recognize the famous fire retardant suit of a firefighter, but this isn't right. I had a friend in college who was a firefighter, and because of him I know they don't keep their gear at home. I distinctly remember that he had to keep all of his gear at the fire station, since whenever he was on duty he practically lived there. Whenever he wasn't on duty, it stayed there, and he went home. The only explanation would be that this woman has it as a memento, but that doesn't make sense either. She already claimed to be a fire-fighter; and she's clearly much too young to be retired. And in addition to all that, why would she take it with her to a hotel?

"Megan Selover" I say, seeing no need to pull out my handcuffs "You're under arrest".

She doesn't protest, even as I take out my phone to call for an ambulance. The only question now is the one that's been bugging me since the beginning

_Why?_


	13. Forgiven

**Sorry for the late update, and sorry if I've not been reading or reviewing stories recently. I just don't have a lot of down time anymore, but I'll try and catch up too. This will probably be the second to last chapter, and the next one will have Maltara in it, so thanks to everyone for staying with this story! And thanks so much to _mozzi-girl, Maltara101 _and _BreezyFan _for the reviews! **

* * *

Megan Selover. Age 24. She was a recently dropped-out college student, or rather, she was kicked out after losing financial aid when her grades dropped. She wanted to be a profiler. Found amongst her possessions was a scrapbook, filled with newspaper articles that mentioned either Mal or myself. She admitted to all her crimes, and is being charged with several accounts of murder. She's currently in critical condition at a nearby hospital.

This is the news that shows up in an E-mail the morning after the hotel incident. It's all over now, but I don't feel like it is. On some subconscious level, I think I truly believed that solving this would bring Oscar back. That somehow, miraculously, I could reverse all of this. But I can't, and as I get ready for the day in my recently re-occupied apartment the words that were pounded into my brain in college throb in my mind like a heart beat.

_Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance._

I try and ignore it, but it doesn't end. Those words seem to take over my mind, circling around me like a tornado of letters. By the time I'm ready it's still the only thing my mind can seem to handle, and I give up on trying to forget it. It's no use, the words are forever wired into my brain.

I decide to head down to the hospital instead of the station first, seeing as it's fairly close, and I still want answers. I've already gotten past the fact that all the knowledge in the world couldn't bring Oscar back, but maybe knowing the reason why can bring me back. Maybe it can still help the living.

I reach the hospital on foot in less than fifteen minutes. Since it's still morning, it's not too terribly busy. After stating my business at the front desk I'm directed to a room down the hall, which I go to straight away.

I'm surprised at what I find as I enter. Megan's lying down, an oxygen tube up her nose. Her arms, neck and head, which are the only things not covered by a thin blanket, are horribly burnt. She looks similar to a doll Neha had once when she was little. She tried to curl it's hair with my curling iron, and ended up melting it's face in.

This rather stupid thought is only enhanced by the fact her hair has been singed away in chunks; leaving some parts bald, while others have awkward chunks of hair sticking out. To my surprise she's awake, and without hesitation I sit next to her on a nearby chair. She glares at me with hatred as I sit, but I ignore it.

I want to hate this girl. I want to hate her so badly. But I can't. All I can really do…is feel sorry for her. Sorry that she has so much darkness, so much hatred inside of her, that she had to take it out on me and the people I love.

"Why did you do it?" is the first thing I ask, my voice much flatter than usual. I might as well start the questions now, I'm going to have to later anyways, and I'd rather do it alone. I can turn in my report on this later, I'm sure no one will mind. Megan doesn't respond, but just keeps staring at me. Then I add "You just threw it all away, didn't you? You could have done something with your life. You could have been the good guy".

Her eyes flicker to something on her nightstand, and I look over. Sitting behind her is a small poster, the kind found in magazines that are meant to be torn out. I recognize it immediately; the familiar two faces meant to look like Mal and myself, the backdrop meant to look like Alcatraz. It's from the movie Mal and I had to investigate so long ago, '_The Rise of the MaskMaker_'. I can remember saying to Mal how maybe the movie will inspire people to get into criminal justice. My guess is this is the result.

"You tried to be a profiler" I say, stating my thoughts out loud. What I thought was angry silence I now think might be the lack of strength to speak, but hopefully she'll able to nod. "But you failed. You couldn't do it".

Megan doesn't nod, but I can see the answer in her eyes. A kind of light behind them that asks _"How do you know this?"._

"And when you did, you were angry. Bitter. You wanted to take it out on the person who got you into this mess".

Once again, her eyes don't lie. But now there's a little bit of fear there too; the fear of how much I know about her. The answer is a lot, and I even know why she went after me and not Mal. I'm more like her, in fact, behind the burns we even look a little alike. The small parts of her face that were spared, mainly around her eyes, are a light olive tone. The remaining hair is coffee-brown, as are her big, round eyes.

"But you didn't just want to hurt me" I continue "You wanted to prove to yourself, to me, that you were smart enough. You wanted to beat me at my own game, make a case that you thought I would never solve. That's why you set yourself on fire. After you were gone, there would be no more leads. And I would spend months, years maybe, looking for a clue that I would never find. And then, maybe one day years and years from now, I would see why you killed people with things relating to their occupation, and I would realize that that is what all of this was about. But by then I would understand, I would know how you felt when you wasted all those years of your life trying to be something that you can't".

What happens next is surprising. Megan starts to cry. Not the shoulder heaving, loud and deep sob like normal people do; since I doubt she would even have the strength for that. But rather a distinct frown on her barely-existent lips, and a few tears slipping down her unmoving face. It's one of the saddest and most pathetic things I've ever seen.

What I do next is probably the hardest thing I've ever done. All the thoughts of everything I've been through for the last few days try and stop the words from coming out, but it had to be said. Because deep down, she's just a girl who lost her way. She must have people who care for her, people who are suffering just as much as I was. And they're probably asking the same questions as me too. _Why?_

Besides, I'm not a doctor, but I know there's a good chance this girl is going to die. I can't let it end yet. Not like this.

"If it's any consolation…I-I forgive you".

I don't wait for her reaction. I don't even look at her. Because, before I can say anything stupid, I get up and leave. What's done is done, and even if I wanted to, I can't take what I said back.

Now if only I could forgive myself.


	14. Happy Endings

**Sorry if this chapter kinda sucks…I'm not very good at writing romance, but I really wanted to end the story with it. This is the last chapter, and hopefully I'll be able to start a new story soon. I want to post a new Maltara story, but I'm making no promises. Let's just say that EMT patient reports are awful, even of they're only for practice.**

**Anyways, review replies:**

**maltararox21: Thanks, that really means a lot :)**

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**BreezyFan: Thanks! :)**

**mozzi-girl: Thanks! :)**

* * *

In the following months I knew of two funerals that took place. I attended one of these, because I belonged there. I was meant to be amongst the black-clad mourners; the crying relatives. I was supposed to stand there and think of what almost was, because that's normal. It's what I'm supposed to do.

The second, taking place about two weeks after Oscar's death, I had no right to go to. It wasn't my place, even if I knew about it. I did not belong there. It would not be normal. It wasn't what I was supposed to do.

A few more months have passed since both of those fateful dates. In fact, the air is already tinted with winter. I am better. Different. The world did not end after the case was finished. Saying that there still aren't times when I still ask myself why all of that happened, and what I would be doing now if it hadn't, would be a lie. But I try not to dwell on it. It's not healthy.

I'm alone now. I don't like it, but at least I'm in a better state than I was before. I don't think I would be able to stand it if I was alone on Christmas before I started to gain a new perspective; which I got not long ago.

There was one day, about two weeks after Oscars funeral, where everything changed. I smiled. I don't remember why, Mal probably said something funny, and the next thing I knew I had the almost alien expression on my face. And then I knew that life wasn't over. That I don't have to always be asking why. That I'm still allowed to live.

That was the turning point, to say the least. It's not a very good word, but it's all I have. After all, we all want a story. In our lives we expect an antagonist, rising action and resolution. And when we don't have those things, we almost lose our road maps. We get lost.

But I'm not lost. At least, not anymore. The time's where I wore my grief on my sleeve, when Mal would look at me with his deep blue eyes like he wanted to say something before quickly looking away, when I kept looking at my phone expecting a call from Oscar; they're gone. And hopefully, they're gone forever. Because I never want to go back there. Not again.

My phone rings and I take a minute to search for it on the coffee table, muting the Tv that had been quietly playing some sort of Christmas special that I hadn't really been paying attention to. I smile as I see the caller ID.

"Mal?".

"Hey". There's a long pause. "I'm guessing your family couldn't make it for Christmas then?".

"Their flight still being delayed because of storms". Another long pause.

"No point in us both being alone one Christmas. I couldn't get out to my sister either. Wanna go somewhere?".

"Christmas dinner at a restaurant?" I say. "Really?".

"Got any better ideas?".

I don't answer right away. My eyes drift to the muted Tv, then to the foggy window. "I guess not".

"Want me to pick you up in ten?".

"Sure, thanks. Bye".

"Bye".

* * *

By the time we get to the restaurant, I'm already glad I said yes.

We go to the same place Mal took me the first time we had dinner together. Since it's late, much later than most people eat dinner, the place is open and fairly empty. And the whole time, I can't help but marvel at just how normal everything is; and at the same time how extraordinary. For some reason, I had the idea in my head that I would never be the same after all of this. That those "average" days were over. But here I am, right now, having an average conversation with my best friend. And I wouldn't trade this moment for the world.

After dinner we step out onto the back porch, just like the first time we came here. And for a moment I forget. I forget that I've been in San Francisco for over two years. I forget everything that's happened during all that time, and for just a second it's almost like that first day with Mal.

A sudden wind sends shivers down my spine, and I pull my coat closer to me. "We can go back inside if you want" Mal says.

"No. I want to stay" I answer, not taking my eyes off the gentle waves of the water only a mere twenty feet in front of us. The truth is that I want to stay here, not to pretend that this never happened, but to remember the good times I've had. And then maybe, just maybe, I can let the bad float away.

"I remember when you first came here" Mal says, imitating me and leaning against the railing. "And I had to convince you to go against the rules for the first time".

"You didn't convince me. I agreed".

"After I convinced you".

I shoot him an annoyed glance, only to find him imitating it playfully. We stay like that for a moment, until both of us crack up and laugh. Mal starts to say something, but for some reason I find myself unable to listen and I just look. I have one of those moments when I can't focus on someone's words, and become fascinated by the way they look and talk. I never really payed attention before; but now I notice how he stands his ground as he talks. He doesn't shift his weight from side to side, like many people do. He always has a slight grin on his face, even while he talks, which is difficult for most people. But he does it with ease, without even thinking about it, like he's been doing so his whole life. When I think about it though, it's probably not far from the truth; it doesn't take much to get a smile out of him.

He puts him arm down on the railing, his hand awkwardly resting on mine. The ring I had worn for all that time is gone, as is the faint tan line that it had already formed.

I'm suddenly aware that he's close now, too close. Close enough that I can see his eyelashes, which is a good indication that it's time to back away. But I don't want to, despite the fact that my brain is screaming at me to back away.

_I can't do this! No! Stop_!

I don't know which one of us is getting closer. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's both of us. Either way, neither of us is backing away. And before I know is, his mouth is on mine. The lips that I've seen smile and frown over those two years, the lips that I never noticed before today. And the protests in my head have stop entirely, turning into acceptance.

_Yes. I can so this. Yes. Yes. Yes_.


End file.
